


A Hard-Hitting Feeling

by theredhood



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: College Student Peter, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredhood/pseuds/theredhood
Summary: " spideytorch #13 :^): “Who did this?” "Even with his healing factor, not all of Peter's injuries go away quickly. Sometimes people notice the ones he can't hide.





	A Hard-Hitting Feeling

It’s not that Peter forgot, it was kinda hard to forget the pain that blossomed every time he moved his jaw. The problem was he forgot that /other people/ could see the bruise that had formed on his left jawline, something he never really had to worry about in costume. Plus, he’d woken up stressed and he was used to being in some state of constant aching. He’d woken up twenty minutes before he had to be at class, hadn’t finished his homework, and had fallen asleep in his costume. Again. Some days Peter really felt like Spider-Man caused him more trouble than he saved. 

He hadn’t even realized why people were staring at him on the subway and in his biochem lecture, he just assumed his bed-head had been worse that day. He hadn’t even actually begun to put the pieces together until Mary Jane had frowned upon seeing him during their weekly coffee date.

“You should’ve told me,” she said as she slid into the seat at their usual corner table, “I would’ve brought my concealer.” He blinked at her a few times, hoping she’d expand further but instead she just took the longest sip from her iced coffee that Peter had ever seen. When it was evident Peter had no clue what she was referring to, she rolled her eyes and pulled out a compact mirror from her purse and held it up in front of him.

“Well, fuck.”

“ _Well, fuck_ , indeed,” she mused, half-smile on her face.  Despite being Peter’s best friend, he’d come to realize a long time ago that MJ found the lower end of his misery amusing. Like when he had tripped up the stairs in his apartment building and his elderly neighbor just kept walking. She’d claimed something about it being funny how New York’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was a complete dumbass outside of the spandex. “Who was it this time?”

“Depends.” Last night had been a mess of villains, both a-list and d-list and everything in between. “Tombstone lit up an enemy arms warehouse, Felicia broke into a penthouse in upper Manhattan and got away, Screwball was trying to get me to do insane shit for her all night, and Venom got pissed I was infringing on their fight with Jack O’Lantern. And that’s not even including when the Torch called me because Namor was being a dick and the rest of the Four were in Latveria. Oh, and the multiple petty crimes New York decided to sprinkle in just for fun.”

“ There is so much crime in New York. No one should live here.”

“Sure thing, Peralta,” he snorts, patting the hand she had rested on the table between them. Her eyes twinkle and she smiles back at him which Peter is pretty sure sets the room ablaze. MJ always got soft when people Peter would pick up on the things she liked and Peter was notorious for indulging in them just to have something to talk about with her. He didn’t always have time to watch TV but she’d spent weeks bringing up jokes from the show when she had watched, so he made time one day to sit down and watch it. And by making time, he means he broke three ribs and his left wrist and was forcefully put on bedrest until it healed. 

The barista came over and set Peter’s monstrosity of a drink down, then, and Peter had chugged half of it before she’d even gotten back to the counter. The only reason he hadn’t finished it all in one go was because Mary Jane snatched it away to look at what he ordered. “You got a 24-ounce latte with _six fucking shots of espresso?_  Peter Benjamin Parker, you’re gonna overdose on caffeine one of these days.”

With a roll of his eyes, he grabs his coffee back and takes another long sip, “fuck off, six shots can’t kill Spider-Man. I mean, shots from a gun might but that’s a different story-”

“Just-” she cuts herself off with a sigh and shakes her head, “switch to something else after this one, okay? Accelerated healing can only save you from your addiction for so long.” Peter’s about to give in and promise to switch when her phone ringing cuts them off. She lifts up a finger and mouths sorry as she picks it up, and Peter accepts his time with MJ is about to get cut short. He can tell she knows her busy schedule is butting in again with every apologetic smile and glance she gives him during her call and he feels bad for her. She stands up with a sigh, apologizes, and for a brief second, she looks like she’s not up for the task of being Mary Jane Watson anymore. Peter stands up with her to hug her and tries to channel much love as he can muster into it. They cling together for a little longer than normal and Peter can tell neither of them has had a good hug in a long time. When they finally pull apart, MJ gently runs her thumb along the bruise and sighs. “Please be careful,” she asks softly, “even with how quickly you heal, it still looks nasty. It must’ve been quite the whack considering it’s still there.” 

He nods and presses a kiss to her cheek, “I promise MJ. Take care of yourself, too.” 

When she finally leaves, Peter deflates in his seat. He has another two hours before he has to be back at school for the lab part of his biochem class and he’s already exhausted. Every part of his body was some shade of sore or aching, he was tired, and all he really wanted to do was lay down and look at cat photos on Twitter. Instead, he settles on ordering one more coffee (this time with only _three_  shots of espresso) and doing the homework he has due for his engineering class. 

Peter’s rifling through his backpack for a pen when someone settles a drink next to his laptop. He glances up to say thank you but the words catch in the back of his throat as he realizes it’s not the barista from earlier but Johnny Storm instead. A rush of relief washes over him until he remembers that Johnny’s Spider-Man’s friend, not Peter’s. 

“Ah, my suspicions were correct,” Johnny begins, smiling with what Ben calls his attention-seeking smile. It’s the kinda smile that makes Peter melt a little, and it’s one of the many that makes Peter wanna start calling Johnny sappy pet names. “You’re Peter, Spidey’s photographer friend, yeah?” When Peter nods, Johnny’s smile lifts a little higher and he plops himself into the chair to Peter’s right. “Cool, thought I recognized you. Hope I’m not intruding, some paps have been following me for the last few blocks and I saw you through the window. You don’t mind, right?” Then with a flourish, he gestures to the tiny table that Peter’s filled with his laptop, two textbooks, and his various notebooks, “I won’t take up any of your precious space.”

Peter snorts and gently pushes his stuff a few inches opposite of Johnny to give him room anyways, “I don’t mind as long as your camera crew doesn’t interrupt.”

“Oh, Peter,” Johnny laughs while crossing his legs, “if you wanted my attention all to yourself, you could’ve asked.” He leans in a little closer and gives Peter a crooked half-grin, “I wouldn’t mind lending it to you.” 

“Unless you’re good at engineering, I think you might be more of a distraction.”

The words are barely out of Peter’s mouth before Johnny’s face lights up and Peter knows he just made his usual mistake of enabling the Human Torch. Johnny sets his elbows on the table, rests his chin in his hand, and looks up at Peter, “you think I’m distracting?” Peter only rolls his eyes and taps him on the nose with the pen he’s holding. Johnny recoils slightly and stares at him with faux shock, “I was hoping you’d hit _on_  me, not _actually_  hit me.”

Peter’s about to retort when the exact meaning of what Johnny just said hits him and he shuts his mouth with a snap. He knows Johnny’s flirty but like… he wasn’t exactly flirty with _Spider-Man_. Unless you counted the times Johnny had joked about Peter sweeping him off his feet when Peter would swing by and save him during fights. Peter absolutely didn’t count those just like how Johnny probably didn’t count the numerous times Peter had mentioned keeping Johnny forever whenever he would cook for them or when he’d pick up dinner and force Peter to take a break during patrols. Or the few times that Peter had let slip that Johnny would make the perfect trophy husband. The flirting didn’t count if Johnny didn’t know who was under the mask, it was just teasing and goofing around. It’s with that thought that Peter thinks to abort the incoming panic before he starts to actually freak out. He excuses himself from the table claiming to need to go to the bathroom and tries to make it look like he isn’t running away.

So, Peter’s had a crush on Johnny. He’s had a crush on him for as long as he could remember, and while the nervousness that came with his crush had lessened, his obviousness about it hadn’t. When he reaches the bathroom, Peter does a little prayer when he remembers it’s not a bunch of cubicles but a single room. He clicks the lock and leans up against the wooden door while he tries to calm down and breath. Peter doesn’t even know why he feels like he’s freaking out, it’s not like Johnny knew he was thinking about his dumb crush on him. If anything, Johnny probably thinks he’s an asshole now considering he just ditched him after Johnny’s joke. His brain catches up then and Peter’s realizing he just left _Johnny fucking Storm_  sitting alone at their table after he said he _wanted_  Peter to flirt with him. “Way to fucking go, Pete,” he groans, letting his head thud against the door. Not wanting to seem like an even bigger asshole than he already was, Peter takes a deep breath, unlocks the door, and forces himself out. 

Thankfully, Johnny’s still at the table when Peter returns. When he gets closer to the table, Johnny looks up at him and flashes him another one of his award-winning smiles, and if that wasn’t enough he’s holding out a cupcake that he must’ve just bought from the counter and Peter’s drink. He wonders briefly if Johnny knew something was wrong or if he just felt the need to buy things.

“I hope you like red velvet,” Johnny says, holding the oversized cupcake in his direction. He looks like he’s gonna say more but he cuts himself off, then stands up in front of Peter before he can make it back to his seat. Johnny sets the cupcake on the table blindly and brings up both his hands to manhandle Peter into turning his head to the side so Johnny can look at the bruise he’d been ignoring. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice a lot softer than when he’d ask Spider-Man about injuries. A small part of Peter’s brain connects that it’s because Spider-Man has a healing factor while the ‘friend’ of Spider-Man is just a regular guy. “Who did this?”

“I’m okay, Johnny,” he tries to say but his voice is muffled by the fact that Johnny’s practically smothering him as he holds him in place while he gets a better look. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice he’s two steps away from suffocating Peter until he taps into his super-strength just enough to remove Johnny’s hands. Luckily for Peter, his friend doesn’t think much about that and instead chooses to focus on the fourth worst bruise he’s gotten in the last three weeks. “It’s okay.”

“Obviously, it isn’t, Peter,” Johnny huffs, throwing himself into his seat. He pushes Peter the cupcake again and sits and stares at him until Peter finally takes it. “Can you at least tell me where it’s from? Is someone hurting you? Did you get hurt working?” For a split second, the panic swells again until Johnny says “I never really thought about how dangerous it would get taking photos of Spider-Man,” and he remembers he’s a photographer, too.

“It’s not a big deal,” he tries to explain but Johnny cuts him off.

“It is, though! You’re like 19, you shouldn’t be putting yourself in situations where you could get seriously hurt.”

Peter rolls his eyes and looks pointedly at Johnny, not enjoying the mother hen treatment he’s being subjected to, especially considering Johnny is _also_  19. Ugh, if _only_  Peter’s sole source of danger came from following around Spider-Man rather than _actually being him_. “Some of us do have bills to pay,” he points out, then jokingly adds, “if I had a sugar daddy it would be a different story.”

Johnny flushes a little at that and opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again. The look he gives Peter is a weird combination of emotions but it stops with an expression that looks more worried than anything. Out of habit because of MJ, Peter rests a hand on top of Johnny’s and curls his fingers around his palm, and Johnny’s gaze softens even more. He looks like he wants to say something but an alarm on Peter’s phone goes off, letting him know he has class soon. Mood ruined, he flashes Johnny a sorry look as he fishes his phone out of his pocket and turns the reminder off. Too embarrassed to look up just yet, he mumbles something about needing to get to class and begins to pack up. 

It takes him a few seconds of fumbling before he gets his backpack open to put all of his stuff away, and Johnny helps by handing him his notebooks and his laptop, “just be careful, okay?” Peter doesn’t say anything or look up at him, just nods and zips up his backpack. Johnny stands up at the same time as him and walks him out, standing close enough that their shoulders brush occasionally. When they get to the front, Johnny holds the glass door open with one hand and places his other on Peter’s back when he walks past to guide him. They stand on the sidewalk for a few seconds as Johnny waits for Peter to pull his coat around himself in a vain attempt to keep out the New York cold. 

“You’re a great guy, Peter,” Johnny finally says after a few moments. He takes a step closer and places his hands on his upper biceps and tries to warm Peter up with his hands like that by channeling more heat to his hands. “Not everyone can take as many hits as our favorite friendly neighborhood dumbass can.” Johnny smiles at him with that soft look again and Peter can’t tell if he’s melting because Johnny’s extremely warm or if it’s just cause he’s beyond whipped. 

Johnny drops his hands after that and takes a step back but still smiling just the same. “I’ll try my best, flamebrain,” Peter promises, knowing damn well he’ll do whatever Johnny asks of him. Johnny pats him on the shoulder as he walks by to head to his last class and they share another brief smile.

“See you around, shutterbug,” Johnny calls after him once Peter turns to leave. Despite the single-digit weather, Peter’s face heats up significantly and he can’t help but smile. The weightless feeling of spending time with Johnny doesn’t leave him the entire walk to school.


End file.
